Traffic Jam
by Lara Liralee
Summary: Disjointed, pointless, idle conversation between two 23 year old best friends. *COMPLETE*


Chip reached for the radio tuner and turned the dial, catching snippets of George Jones then a fiery sermon before stopping on a lively guitar riff. He began working invisible frets and plucking imaginary strings to the music, throwing some shoulder action into the last bars. When the song was done and a DJ began speaking, Chip sighed and pulled off his shirt. He used it to wipe perspiration from his face and body before tossing it into the back seat. He opened the glove box, withdrew a map and began fanning himself.

"With the promotion, you couldn't afford air conditioning?" Chip said.

"A lot of taxis have air conditioning. You could have called one."

"I detoured here just to spend some time with you for the first time in a year. I didn't want to deprive you of my company these last few precious minutes that have turned into hours. Show some appreciation, Lee."

"Gee, thanks Chip."

"You're welcome."

Chip glanced over his shoulder at the long line of cars stopped and still behind them, then back ahead at the traffic that curved past his line of sight. As music resumed on the radio, Chip turned the volume up. Lee, from the driver's seat, reached immediately to turn it back down. Chip frowned, then looked towards Lee.

"I just realized something about you Lee."

"What?"

"In the six years I've known you, never, not once, have I seen you play an air guitar. Come on, admit it. You have to have at some point."

Lee looked over at Chip just long enough to roll his eyes.

"Never?" Chip shook his head. "I should have known. You're too steely to play an air guitar"

"Steely?"

"Yeah. Intense, rigid, uptight-steely."

"I guess the fact that you play a nonexistent musical instrument makes you loosey-goosey then."

"Loosey Goosey? Lee, please, a grown man doesn't get his comebacks from Chicken Little."

"Loosey Goosey isn't from the sky is falling chicken one, it's the other chicken, the hen. Where nobody wants to pull their weight but everybody wants to eat in the end."

"The Little Red Hen? No, Lee. Loosey Goosey is Chicken Little. You're fairy tale deficient, another steely trait."

"Those aren't fairy tales, they're stories. Fairy tales have to have witches or wizards or fairies or princesses or magic."

"I'd say a talking chicken qualifies as magic," Chip said.

"Not unless it casts spells or shape shifts. Talking chickens are anthropomorphist, not magic."

'I feel sorry for any man that can't see the magic in a talking chicken. How typically steely of you to substitute a ten dollar vocabulary for an imagination. What's anthropomorphist?"

"Assigning human traits to nonhumans."

"Oh. So, anyway, back to me-I'm not loosey-goosey, I'm a free spirit."

"Free spirits aren't career military."

"Disciplined free spirits are."

"Disciplined free spirit is a contradiction in terms."

"See-you're thinking inside a stuffy little conformist box, another part of the steely thing."

"You being a pain in the ass-is that part of the free spirit thing?" Lee asked. He pulled the map from Chip's hand and began fanning himself. Chip ignored both the map hijack and Lee's comment and resumed speaking.

"Steely's not always a bad thing. Ninety-seven percent of all Medal of Honor recipients are of the steely persuasion. Very high percentage of steely there. As opposed to comedians and interior decorators-they have some of the lowest steely rates. Lady gym teachers-high. Pigheaded ONI agents-high."

Lee smacked the back of Chip's head with the map and threw it at him.

Chip picked up the map, gave Lee's arm a retaliatory swat, then resumed using it as a fan.

Lee glanced at his watch. "There's no way we'll make it in time. You're going to miss your plane."

"I'll call mom. She'll be able to change it to a later flight."

Lee inched the car toward the exit ramp. "You hungry?"

"I could eat. What're you in the mood for?"

"Steak. Your treat to pay for the gas and aggravation."

"Steak sounds good," Chip answered. They made their way off the highway and into a line of cars at a stop sign leading to a main drag.

"Oh man, I forgot to tell you," Chip said. "Remember Captain Hardee's wife?"

Lee cringed and Chip laughed. "Elton Ross wasn't as good as you at resisting her advances."

"You're kidding."

"Serious as a heart attack. They got caught in the-" As Lee braked for his turn at the stop sign, Chip stopped in mid sentence before speaking again. "Whoa."

"I see it, I-"

Chip tapped Lee's arm with the map to interrupt him. "Five o'clock."

Lee looked over his shoulder to follow Chip's directions and gaze.

"Wow." Lee echoed Chip's whoa.

The view was of a motel swimming pool across the street. Five lovely and statuesque young ladies had just entered the pool area and were in the process of disrobing down to bikinis and dipping toes to check the water. Lee and Chip watched until a honk from behind drew Lee's attention back to the road and he pulled away from the stop sign.

"How much cash do you have on you?" Chip asked.

"Twenty seven dollars."

"I have about fifty. Combined, that'll cover the room, beer and dinner for four if we manage to hook up."

"What about your mom?"

"I wouldn't get in until late tonight, anyway. I'll just get the flight for tomorrow morning, save them from having to stay up all night."

"I don't have any trunks with me," Lee said. "I'll have to get some."

"Okay. You drop me off and I'll get us checked in while you go find a bathing suit."

"I don't think so. You think I've forgotten the sorority party I was late to?"

"Lee, that was a one off, a long time ago. I was immature and insecure; I was just trying to even the playing field. I'm ashamed still."

"Ashamed? You sure didn't mind sharing your shame with anybody who'd listen. Last month, I ran into Avery. You know the first thing he said to me? 'Freak out any sorority sisters lately?'"

Chip dropped his contrite look and smiled. "What can I say, Lee? A classic has staying power. And, that one girl way overreacted. You'd have thought I'd said you were an escaped axe- wielding maniac the way she went off. Trust me. I promise, this time, I'll talk you up, not down. I'll have them all primed and ready to fall all over you. What if they decide to pack it in? If I'm there, I can keep them there till you get back."

"I trust you, Chip. But, you're not getting a head start." He turned to grin at his friend. "I may be steely, but I'm not stupid."


End file.
